Synopsis: The morning after Mrs.Scully's St. Patrick's Day party.
Scully has another surprise for Mulder.


Disclaimer: Here we go. You all know the drill. I don't own the 
characters in this story, I am just borrowing them for fun, and 
I'm NOT making any money. They do belong to CC, FOX, 1013 and DD 
and GA. Finished on Feb.21 1997. This is a sequel to 'Violins and
Dancing'. All comments can be sent to x59jmb@plato.ucs.mun.ca.


                   Laughter and the Morning After
                           by J.M. Brazil


        Scully awoke on the morning of March 18 with a massive 
headache. She tried to sit up, but couldn't move. Two strong arms 
were wrapped around her waist. The previous night was difficult 
to recall, and she panicked. "Oh my god! What am I after doing?" 
She then realized that she was still wearing her nightclothes, 
and let out a sigh of relief, thinking that it was unlikely she 
had done anything with whoever was in bed with her.


        The other figure began to stirr, releasing his hold on 
Dana. She sat up slowly, the room spinning around her, and tried 
to get out of bed without disturbing the still sleeping figure. 


        "Good morning Dana." Fox Mulder spoke in a state of 
semi-consciousness.


        His partner spun around, regretting it immediately. She 
clutched the bedpost to keep herself from falling, and breathed 
another sigh of relief. The 'strange' man who had slept with her 
was only her partner. "Good morning to you too."


        Mulder opened his eyes and stared at her in the early 
morning light, smiling. She was beautiful even with a mild 
hangover and bed-head. "So where were you rushing off to?"


        Scully blushed. Not wanting to admit that she had been 
trying to sneak away because she couldn't remember who the other 
person in her bed was, she told him the next thing that came to 
mind. "I was going to grab a few asperin for this headache I 
have." She turned to exit the room once again.


        He called after the retreating woman, "Bring a couple 
back for me too, please." He watched as she closed the door, 
and then carefully reached for his pants. Pulling his cell-phone 
out of the pocket, he dialled Skinner's office number and left a 
message on his voice mail to say that both himself and Dana would 
not be in that day. He was just replacing the phone and his pants 
when Dana re-entered the room.


        Handing her partner a glass of water and a couple asperin, 
she climbed back into the bed and slid down under the covers. 
Mulder swallowed the asperin and water, and followed suit, wrapping 
his arms around his partner to protect her from the chill in the 
room. She smiled at his gesture, and curled up against him. "Thanks 
Mulder."


        He smiled, and burried his nose in her hair. "You're welcome. 
By the way, I called in sick for both of us. I didn't think either 
one of us was going to be up to going in today."


        She nodded her thanks, and closed her eyes to the spinning 
of the room. She tried to go back to sleep, but the throbbing pain 
in her head just wouldn't let her.


        Mulder, on the other hand, had no intentions of sleeping. 
There were certain things he was too curious about to let go. "So 
Dana, why didn't you ever tell me that you could play the violin?" 
He paused for a second. "Or that you can dance?"


        Knowing that this was eventually going to come up, she had 
an answer ready for him. "It just never came up before."


        He chuckled. "I never once pictured you as the musical type
. So when did you learn, and why did you give it up? You could have 
been just like that one Natalie McMaster you're always listening to."


        Dana blushed. He had obviously enjoyed her show last night, 
and of that she was glad. "I took classical violin lessons when I 
was young. When we finally moved to the East Coast to stay, I began 
taking the Irish step dancing classes, and that was what inspired me 
to teach myself to play the fiddle. My teacher wanted me to persue a 
career in music, but I had my mind made up. I wanted to be a doctor. 
She was rather disappointed. She had told mom and dad that I was her 
star pupil. "She stopped for a second to pull the blankets more 
tightly around her body. "I've tried to keep it up. I find that being 
able to pick it up and play relaxes me."


        Realizing that she was still cold, he released his hold on 
her. "Dana, if you're still cold, turn around and face me."


        She did as he said, and wrapped her arms around his waist as 
he had done to her. He rubbed her back briskly in hopes of warming 
her a little more. She sighed. "That's alot better. Thank you Mulder."


        He smiled down at her. "You're welcome. So are there any other 
little secrets about your life that you feel like telling me now?"


        A mischevious grin spread across her face. "Other than my 
tatoo - no." She looked him square in the eye, and waited for his 
reaction. The one she got was exactly what she expected.


        Mulder's eyebrow arched and an inquisitive look spread across 
his face. "What tatoo Scully? I saw an awful lot of you on our first 
case and I didn't notice any tatoos." His grin widened. "So where is 
it?"


        Scully's grin widened as well. "That's for me to know and you 
to find out." Before she knew what was happening, Mulder had her 
turned over on her back, and was straddling her waist.


        "There is only one of two places this tatoo could be. Places 
that were covered by gray silk underwear when you rushed into my hotel 
room half-naked on our first case. I guess I'll have to remove a little clothing." He grabbed a hold of the hem of her T-shirt and started to 
pull the shirt up, off her body.


        Dana grabbed his hand. "Now, now. Be nice. Besides, that's not 
where it is. If you'll get off of me I'll show you." Mulder, eager to 
see this side of his partner, set her free. She got off the bed, and 
stood on the floor. Placing her left foot on the edge of the bed, she 
pulled her plaid boxer shorts up the inside of her thigh to reveal a 
small tatoo of an anchor with a rose wrapped around it.


        Mulder reached out and touched it, making her giggle. "So 
you're ticklish as well." He pulled her back into the bed. "I'll 
have to take advantage of that." He began to tickle her mercilessly, 
and her laughter rang through the room.


        She gasped for breath. "Mulder! Stop!"


        He did. Now he stared at his partner who was gasping for
breath, yet smiling at him. He returned the smile and leaned 
forward, capturing her lips with his own. Her arms wrapped 
themselves around his neck, and she returned the kiss - 
passionately.


        Before either one realized what was happening, or where it 
was happening to, Dana was lying on the bed, without her clothes, 
and Mulder was leaving a trail of soft kisses all down her body. 
She reached for him, and pulled his shirt off over his head, 
enjoying the sight of his well-muscled chest.


        She was about to help him remove his boxer shorts when a 
knock came at the door.


        "Dana, Fox. There's breakfast ready downstairs if you're 
hungry."


        Dana bolted upright in bed, and Mulder scrambled to retrieve 
her clothing. "Um, sure mom. We'll be down in a few minutes."


        She quickly pulled on her T-shirt and shorts, and Mulder 
burst out laughing. It didn't take long for her to join in. They 
had almost been caught in the act. The whole situation struck her 
as funny. Throwing Mulder's T-shirt to him, she crawled off the bed. 
"Let's go get some breakfast."


        He reached out and grabbed her hand, keeping her from leaving 
the room. "Not quite so fast. There's something we need to discuss 
first."


        A confused expression crossed her face. "And what could that 
be?"


        "When we get back to D.C. this afternoon - your place or 
mine?"


        Her hand still clutched in his, she pulled him off the bed. 
Laughing once again, she responded. "I think your place is closer." 
Hand in hand, shaking with laughter, they left the room.


*Friendship is Love without his wings.*
                               -Byron